It’s bonkers the things we remember, right?…the little scraps of memories that we’ve torn off from the full stories of our lives, and stowed away for later, that pop into our minds at the weirdest times, but on further reflection, maybe NOT so much the weirdest times. Sometimes, the memories we save SEEM to make absolutely no sense. I mean, who really cares that you sat out front of your corner store when you were around 12 and ate Bottle Caps (the candy, people) in your favourite new sweater from the Biway on Concession Street? Is this memory about the…

Well, I’m almost ALL the way to my goal. Tomorrow, weather and the goddess permitting (there was a weather bomb out here...no joke, look it up!), I will reach Tofino. That will be a total of 4668 kilometres in my KIA, since October 9th, not counting side trips. Don’t clap for me yet, even spiritually, I still have to drive home…but I DON’T have to think about that, yet. In the moment, Matthews. Stay in the moment. Yesterday, I drove the almost five hours, from Jasper to Kamloops. It was hard to leave Jasper, I’m not going to lie. Being…

1981. Grade 9. Spring High School Dance. On that most fateful night, the Hill Park Secondary School gym had a very interesting and alluring mixture of smells...part Polo, part Jean Nate, with just a dash of...what is it now....oh yes...humiliation, thrown in for good measure. The dance wears on, and we find ourselves at the moment that RAISE A LITTLE HELL segue ways, NOT seamlessly may I add, into the dreamy intro of Stairway to Heaven...close your eyes humans and listen...can't you just hear it? Can't you just see it? I'm standing along the gym wall in my pink, drop…

Let’s scroll back in time a bit. Truth: I keep wanting to finish this, and put it up, but also, this trip is ALL about going with the flow…so I’m trying to be mindful of that and….wait a minute…you don’t really need to know my flowery issues. Just know that I started this last week. Okay. LAST WEEK, Ari took a picture of me on a hike in Thunder Bay. I’m not going to lie, in the middle of our hike, when we got to a particularly visually pleasing rocky and rolling section, we paused and had a WARRIOR photo…

The road from Winnipeg to Regina is the same from beginning to end. Do not pass go, do not collect $200 Canadian Dollars. While this section of the TransCanada has real charm, comfort and a warm, coziness about it that is undeniable, at one point, during my almost six hour drive, I started to feel like I was in prairie version of The Matrix...wheat field, wheat field, wheat field wheat field, grain silo, grain silo, grain silo, Tim Horton's, Tim Horton's, Tim Horton's...and then, when I pulled over to make sure that my bike was okay on the rack... ...the…

Today? I saw a moose, that I thought (on first sight) was a bear. Then? When I got little closer, I thought it couldn't be that magical a moment...so, I decided it had to be a horse. Then when I was right beside the creature? I saw that it was TWO moose. Mooses. Moose. Anyhow, there were TWO of them! As I drove away, I thought to myself, "Sharron, don't decide something is NOT magical, CANNOT be magical, before you actually get close enough to see what the thing actually is and let the decision make itself." I don't know…

  I'm not good at transitions. I'm aware that this seems like a fairly simple concept, and is maybe NOT what you expected to hear (read) on this, the first day of my drive...but stay with me, here...till about six months ago I didn't realize how much time can be saved, fussed-upedness be thwarted and how much kinder I can be to myself, by reminding myself of the above fact. Me: Sharron, you're not good at transitions. BE they big transitions or small transitions...they lean on ALL my shit. Back in January, right after the holidays were over (weird pandemical…

I know. It sounds like I'm dragging my cocktail dress and high heels out of the deep freeze, and onto a stage near you, doesn't it? Well, no, I'm NOT doing that. Not yet, at any rate. Instead? I'm plopping my bike on my new bike rack (that's attached to the hitch I had installed on my car at a cost that brought water to my eyes), stuffing my blow-up kayak in the trunk, packing enough clothes for three seasons and taking my jam-packed KIA on the road, and venturing as far west as a gal can drive. I will…

September 4th, 2021 I’m 12 days away from being 53 years old. No, I’m not ashamed to say it. I’m actually quite proud that I’ve made it this far, without some fatal situation occurring. AND I don’t say that with any sense of morbidity…not really…well, as much as one can’t be morbid when talking about death…BUT I say it with boat loads of gratitude. You see, I’ve done a lot of to-ing and fro-ing in my life…in cars, on bikes, on rollerblades (god help us all, thank GODDESS someone stole those death machines out of my luggage on a flight…

This post I’ve included below, popped up on my loved/hated (in equal measure) FACEBOOK memories feature this morning. Before I rebranded my website, I did A LOT of my writing on social media. Sometimes, when I read back what I wrote, when it appears in the aforementioned FB memories, I’m thrilled when the post stands the test of time…and this one does. For me, anyhow. Is it conceited to say I wrote something that I still love? If it is, ah well, right? It’s really gratifying to the see the receipts of the journey I’ve been on, since I sold…